


Confessions of a Derangerous Mind

by suzvoy



Category: Smallville
Genre: Alternate Universe, Humor, M/M, episode-related
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-05-29
Updated: 2004-05-29
Packaged: 2017-11-01 07:30:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/353774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suzvoy/pseuds/suzvoy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clark got to Lex in time, but that doesn't make Lex any less crazy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Confessions of a Derangerous Mind

## Confessions of a Derangerous Mind

by Suz

<http://suzvoy.livejournal.com/>

* * *

It was another book on psychology. It wasn't a huge surprise - in fact it wasn't a surprise at all - but Lex, once the epitome of control, couldn't prevent a sigh from escaping. 

"Clark, what are you doing?" 

A page turned. "Reading." 

The bluntness was probably his influence, or at least the way he used to be, and he really had no one to blame but himself. "Clark..." 

Fifty pages turned. Lex still didn't understand how simple friction didn't set the book alight. 

"You're crazy, Lex." 

He'd stopped being offended by that a while ago. This was a familiar conversation. "And you want to help." 

The book was discarded; another picked up. Was that a faint whiff of smoke? 

He appreciated Clark's studiousness. Really. Going into hiding meant not risking exposure to anyone who could recognise him, and knowing Lionel Luthor, by now every shrink in the country had Lex's entire medical history and vital stats. Probably dental records, too. 

They could have left the country, but all exits out of America would also be covered by his father's people. And despite all of his abilities, Clark still didn't know what his limits were, didn't want to risk hurting Lex. 

Though Lex wanted Clark to run them across the Atlantic. Just to see. 

So Clark had taken it upon himself to try and find a way to 'cure' him. A way that didn't involve countless volts of electricity turning his brain into week-old jell-o. 

Lex liked that plan a lot, even though it seemed a little naive. He seriously doubted anyone close to Clark had suffered mental illness similar to his (although if he acknowledged that he was crazy, did that still mean he actually _was_? Clark would probably know, but he was _not_ getting into that 'entire book from memory' recital that happened last time. Lex really couldn't fathom why Clark didn't get top grades in _everything_.). 

Besides, being crazy wasn't so bad. He was definitely happier than he remembered being before, something that may or may not have been related to the fact that a) Clark was lying next to him, and b) Clark was lying next to him. In bed. 

Not that Lex was always like this. He had his good days, his bad days, his smashing his head through a window days. He suspected the good days were winning out, but that could well have been the insanity talking. 

The thing was...Clark was lying next to him. In bed. Reading. There were so many other kinds of -ing's they could be doing, but nooooo, it had to be reading. 

The problem was that Lex was crazy, and Clark - having those decency and moral things (damn him), and despite Lex's frequent arguments on the subject - thought he'd be taking advantage of him. 

Ha! 

Okay, he probably was insane. He never used to think ha! 

But then he never used to venture outside in a wig either, or have to worry about Clark missing school and screwing up his education for him - for _him_ \- and- 

"How are your parents?" 

The newly started thhhhhhhhhhhhhp through the latest book paused. 

Yeah. Definitely smoke. 

"Fine. They worry. But...they're used to me being away." 

Bad Clark. Red Kryptonite Clark. That Clark was someone he wanted to meet, or preferably fuck in a dark alleyway somewhere. Not that this Clark wasn't fuckable; Lex just suspected that Clark would care less about doing what was right and do what was oh-so-right. 

He was really _really_ glad that Clark had told him about his time in Metropolis. Yes. 

Clark went to see his parents every fortnight or so. Not to visit (superpowers notwithstanding, you never knew quite who was going to be hanging around Smallville at any given moment), but literally to _see_ , and maybe to listen. He left the occasional letter for them too, always being sure to stay just on the right side of giving them enough information without revealing their whereabouts. 

Lex knew they couldn't keep running forever; Clark knew it too. But until they could get something on Lionel and were able to prove it, no matter how sane Lex ever became, the moment he stepped foot inside his old home he'd be back in the asylum again so fast his stomach would probably be left behind. 

Hmm. Interesting imagery. 

Lex had been putting the feelers out; contacting people he knew would rather die painfully then ever do anything that would help Lionel Luthor, gathering intel, but his resources were limited now. Far less than what he was used to. 

It was frustrating. But...he cast his gaze back towards the boy next to him who somewhere along the way became a man, right in front of his eyes, and he almost didn't realise it at all until the day he saved him. Not from water, or drowning, or maniac's in Porsche's. But from his own father. 

He was going to have to deal with that one day, anything and everything that Lionel Luthor was; it was apparently playing no small part in his insanity. 

But not today. Because today there was a man/boy/alien in his bed with oh, an erection, and that couldn't _possibly_ have anything to do with the fact that Lex's hand had been rubbing slowly along his thigh this entire time, back and forth back and forth, and maybe his studiousness hadn't been as studious as Lex suspected, and more a concentrated effort to try and ignore Lex's hand as it moved back and forth back and forth... 

"Lex." A choked voice. Finally. "Are you trying...to kill me?" 

"What can I say Clark?" His hand moved to something that definitely wasn't a thigh. "I'm your arch nemesis." 

Well shit. The book actually _did_ go up in flames. 

Cool. 

**~FINIS**


End file.
